


All These Other Boys

by Ehcimocs, FreyaOdin



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: AU, First Meetings, Humor, M/M, Speed Dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12189642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ehcimocs/pseuds/Ehcimocs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaOdin/pseuds/FreyaOdin
Summary: Speed dating. Five minutes per date. You have until the sound of the bell, so hurry up!





	All These Other Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Go check out [Ehcimocs' other works on Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Ehcimocs), you'll be glad you did!

****

**DING**

“Hi, I’m Scott. Nice to meet you.”

“Trevor. What do you do?”

“I’m a musician. You?”

“Tax attorney. Have you ever thought of getting a real job? Something with substance?”

“...Excuse me?”

“Music’s not very reliable, is it? Did you even go to college?”

“I...wow. Yeah, I d—”

“Well, you’re hot at least. You’ll probably be able to find a sugar daddy to support your ‘passion’, or whatever. Won’t be me though.”

“...You have no idea how okay with that I am.”

**DING**

“Hi, I’m James.”

 “I’m Mitch.”

 “Your dye job is fantastic.”

 “Thank you. That’s sweet.”

 “Did you get the downstairs done as well?”

 “Excuse me?”

 “The carpet should match the curtains or else what’s the point?”

 “You think I should have bleached my pubes, those things right next to my _dick_ , and dyed them purple? Seriously?”

 “Well, If you’re going to do something, you gotta really commit, right?”

 “...I don’t think any committing is gonna happen here.”

**DING**

 “...but then I said, _‘Harry darling._ You shouldn’t put yourself through this, he ain’t worth it. No man is. He’s only gonna turn around and do the same thing all over again.’ You know what I’m talking about? Some men are just _like_ that — you give them an inch and they take a mile. I warned him, I said ‘Don't you go putting your heart on the line again sweetheart, not for him!’ Those were my exact words. And he should have listened because the very next week, _the next week_ , he done that same damn thing all over again and guess who’s left to pick up the pieces?! Damn right! So I said, _‘No_ ; you better listen good honey…’”

**DING**

“I just really think Trump will be good for us gays.’”

“Annnnd we’re done.”

**DING**

“This is Mary. She’s my wife.”

“Your...your wife?”

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Um, yes?”

“We’re looking for someone bisexual, wait no. Pansexual. That’s the proper term these days, right? Pansexual? Whew. I wouldn’t want to offend anyone. Now, Mary here has always wanted a threesome. I have to admit I’m not really into guys, no offense, but I’m a modern man. Secure in my masculinity and all that hippy bullshit, right? And I just love her so much that I’m happy to get her whatever she wants. Happy wife, happy life, isn’t that the expression? It’s a good one!  So are you?”

“...Am I what?”

"Pansexual?”

“No. And I don’t think it works lik—”

“Are you sure you’re not? It’s just that Mary thinks you’re really hot and I don’t like to disappoint her.”

“Pretty sure.”

“...Do you know anyone who is?”

**DING**

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Wilderness weekends. Basic survival - it’s so amazing. Just you and your bare hands. You make your own fire; build your own shelter; catch and prepare your own meals.”

“Catch my own what now?”

“Oh, y’know; rabbits, birds, that sort of thing. Being completely cut off from every modern convenience is just the most liberating experience. Everyone needs to try it at least once.”

“I… oh - sorry, that’s my agent, I should probably get this… Hello?”

**DING**

“I mean, Beyoncé’s _okay_ , I guess. She’s just really overrated.”

“Annnnd we’re done.”

**DING**

“You have beautiful eyes.”

“That’s sweet.”

“And hair.”

“Thanks so much. You’re handsome, too. What do you—”

“And luscious lips.”

“Okay, that’s uh—”

“Bet they’d look gorgeous wrapped around my…”

“Um, that’s a bit forwa—”

“How’s your gag reflex?”

“Wow, where is that bell when you need it?”

**DING**

“So if we get together, I’d expect an allowance, of course. It takes time and money to look this good, you know? That would be on top of my rent, utilities, phone, and car payments. I like to vacation at least twice a year, preferably on a private jet, although I’ll cope with first class if I have to...”

**DING**

“It wasn't too bad until it started getting _really_ swollen — that’s when I realised I should probably have gone to the ER first thing—”

“I’m sorry. No. Can we, um — I’ll be right back.”

**DING**

“Musician, huh? Are you signed? Who with?”

“RCA.”

“Cool, cool. So if I send you a demo, you can get someone important to listen to it, right?”

“...I don’t even know you.”

“You’d be helping launch my career, man. I’ll be sure to thank you in my first Grammy speech. That’s cool, right? Remembering the little people? It’ll be like _I_ did _you_ a favour.”

**DING**

“But it’s like false advertising, right?”

“The make-up?”

“Yeah —  like underneath all that you could look like a potato and how am I supposed to know?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have a photo or something?”

“Ding!”

**DING**

“So how much do you charge? Is it like a monthly retainer or—?”

“I’m sorry?”

“For, y’know — doin’ the do.”

“...”

“Oh. ‘Musician’ wasn’t a euphemism, was it?”

“No. No, it was not.”

**DING**

“I mean, we’re both guys, right? It’s not like it’s our fault we still want to sleep with other people. He should have understood that. And I was discreet; I didn’t parade it around in front of him. But then he had to get all paranoid and go snooping through my credit card statements like a suspicious _wife_ . Of course he’s going to find something he doesn’t want to know. So really it was _his_ fault we broke up.”

**DING**

“So Eugene, what do you do for fun?”

“I speak to all as if I were the Bard.”

“Uh, the Bard?”

“Pentameter iambic is my wont.”

“Iambic pentamet— you talk like you’re Shakespeare?”

“To some, it is disturbing, but I think,  
That one can see the wisdom of my plan,  
A small outlandishness on part of mine,  
Perchance it could pay off with pleasing sex?”

“To flee or not to flee? That is the question.”

“‘Tis not an unexpected ‘no’ to hear.”

**DING**

“Music producer, huh? Are you signed? Who with?”

“OWSLA.”

“Woah, dude. Awesome. Can you listen to my demo?.”

“No.”

“But what if I—?”

“No.”

**DING**

“Hi, I’m Dan. I’m straight!”

“Hi, I’m Scott. I’m… _confused_.”

“Oh, I’m just here supporting my friend, Brian — over there.”

“Over… oh! _Wow_. Your friend is hot.”

“I know, right?”

“...”

“He’s smart, too — he’s a surgeon and a part time lifeguard. He’s… _great_. Perfect really. Any guy would be lucky to have him.”

“Oh, honey. Let me buy you a drink.”

**DING**

“Oh come _on_ , Vetements is just a nasty Eastern European aesthetic on a big budget. And that’s assuming it’s real — you know most of what you see is fake, right? And Balenciaga?! Don’t get me _started_. Demna Gvasalia is the worst thing to hav— where are you going?”

**DING**

“I require my partners to have a certain legerity of mind. The fashion in which the preponderance of millennials converse is a travesty, replete with marginalia they postulate brands them precocious, but in reality merely exacerbates the decline of mellifluous discourse in contemporary society and propagates the position that we are all trivial dullards, devoid of acumen or practicality.”

“...Did you just imply you’re big on _practicality_?”

**DING**

“... but as it turns out, they only look see-through with a camera flash!”

“...”

“Brian?”

“Mmm?”

“Am I _that_ boring?”

“No! I’m sorry. You’re lovely. I just… my heart’s not really in this.”

“One of those ‘not ready to date again yet’ situations?”

“One of those ‘tragically in love with my straight best friend’ situations. And to add insult to injury, he’s dragged his ass here with me for moral support, so I get a constant reminder of how no man is ever going to compare.”

“Oh, that’s… wow.  I’m so sor— Wait. Is he the guy over there who keeps staring at you?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, honey. We need to talk.”

**DING**

“Your dye job is fantastic.”

“This is my actual hair colour.”

“Oh. Sorry, I assumed. Huh. You seem really smart for a blond.”

“Huh. You seem really dumb for a brunet.”

**DING**

“Qa-pla!”

“Um, what?”

“taH pagh taHbe'!”

“Uh huh. Okay. Do you need another drink? Because I do.”  

**DING**

“OhMyGod I love that too! What an amazing coincidence!”

“That’s… cool. Um, what kinda music are you into right now?”

“What do you like listening to?”

“You go first, I’m curious.”

“Uh, do you like... Slipknot?”

“Not _really_ my thing, but—”

“Oh, no, I hate them too. What about… um… Bon Jovi?”

“Not my favourite.”

“Oh, sure sure; can’t _stand_ him.”

“Right...”

**DING**

“Your aura! It’s — wow. I’ve not seen such light around a person in… a long time.”

“Really?! That’s so interesting!”

“And you have such a calm energy about you.”

“Wow, thank you, that’s really nice.”

“And.. no, wait. Oh, such a shame.”

“What?”

“It wouldn’t work; you’re meant for another.”

“What? No, come back!”

.

.

.

“Damn it.”

**DING**

“Hi, my name’s ‘more disillusioned with humanity than I was an hour ago’. I’m 26 and very gay. I’m a musician, mostly a singer. Which isn’t a euphemism for prostitute, in case you were wondering.”

“Hi, my name’s ‘I could write a book about the shit I’ve heard tonight’. I’m 25. I’m a music producer, mostly EDM. I’m also very gay. This is _not_ my real hair color, in case you were wondering, nor have I dyed anything else.”

“This _is_ my real hair color. It has nothing to do with my IQ. I like people who can form their own opinions. Beyoncé is queen. I’m not really into Shakespeare. I don’t want your money; I also don’t want to give you my money. I don’t care if I’m in your Grammy acceptance speech, although in the unlikely event this actually goes well, maybe you’ll someday be in mine.”

“I know what I like and I don’t need anyone else to tell me otherwise. I don’t need your money and won’t be giving you mine. This Balenciaga is real and does not go camping. I’m more of a Rihanna and Gaga stan but Beyoncé is indeed queen. I haven’t thought much about Grammy speeches, but I am really starting to hope that this might actually go well.”

“Hi. I’m Scott.”

“Hi. I’m Mitch.”

“And together, we may be the only sane ones here.”

“Here’s hoping!”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Fuck yes.”

  
**END**

**Thoughts?**


End file.
